


it's not about being perfect (i swear)

by punkcowboy



Series: lgbt+ fics [4]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Calum centric, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, I'm Sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Orthorexia Nervosa, This Is Sad, but it does get kinda better i swear, but it gets better?, but that's not the main part of the story, so goddamn angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-02 09:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkcowboy/pseuds/punkcowboy
Summary: Calum just wants to be healthy. No need for worry.Right?or, in which Calum is falling apart and no one is quite sure what to do about it (least of all Calum)





	1. down the rabbit hole

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> \- eating disorder (based on orthorexia nervosa, but in this case it is undiagnosed throughout the fic)  
> If you have even the slightest worry that this will trigger you, then please, click away now ! I would rather no-one read this than have it harm someone.

It started out innocently enough- he had just wanted to be _healthier_.

He didn't feel like he was exercising as much as he should be; in that sense, touring made him lazy. Sure, performing burned off a bunch of calories, but he also wasn't jumping about like mad the way he used to when he was a teen. As well as this, there had simply been one too many times where he and the guys stayed up to the small hours of the morning, eating pizza and drinking beer. He enjoyed it, of course he did, but the more he did it the more he couldn't help thinking about all the carbs and the calories that were adding up. It made him feel ill sometimes, when he thought about how _unhealthy_ the things he was putting into his body were. So, he decided to put a stop to it.

He tried to do it subtly- he didn't want to insult the others, so he just started switching the beer to water and buying salad instead of pizza. Small changes, easy to make. Although the smell that wafted over to him when the aforementioned pizza boxes were opened made his mouth water and stomach growl, he came to be quite proud of his own self-control.

They teased him at first- especially Ashton, who complained that he wouldn't be like a "cuddly little bear" anymore- but there was never any real bite to it, and they soon accepted that he was on a health kick. "Alright Cal, we'll save some for you and you can have it tomorrow if you want". Often, they forgot to save any. When they did, he never ate it, but nobody said anything.

Then, he stopped staying up with them at all- he needed a good nights rest after all. He'd looked it up and the most reputable website that he could find said that he should get between seven and nine hours of sleep a night. So, he went to bed at ten- his own bunk, because he was light sleeper and knew Ash would wake him up if he came to join him-whenever possible, and as soon as he could if it was a show night. That being said, he never got much sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He just lay in his bunk for hours, listening to his bandmates having fun ~~without him~~ or to the cars going past as the tour bus trundled along to wherever they were going next. More often than not, he was planning out his meals and workouts for the next day, trying to figure out how long he would have to run for, or many reps of that day's workout he would need to do to burn off the calories of the previous day- and, as time went on, how to fit in all his extra workouts without worrying the others too much.

Most of the time, he didn't understand _why_ they were so worried about him. Ashton, he kind of understood- his boyfriend was a constant worrier, and although he often found that endearing, he truly saw no reason for him, or any of them for that matter, to be worried about him in this instance. He was just trying to keep fit, after all. Touring was hard, and busy, and finding time for _anything_ outside of shows and presswork was hard. That was the only reason he worked out every spare minute he got-even if he was so tired that he just wanted to curl up in his bunk and stay there forever. Even if he was so fucking _exhausted_ that he felt like puking after just five minutes or so of jogging. On those days, he just pushed himself even harder. He would get annoyed at himself, because _he_ _shouldn't_ _be_ _this_ _tired_ , _he's_ _done_ _these_ _exercises_ hundreds _of_ _times already._ ~~Probably too many but he refused to think about that.~~

(Sometimes, though, he understood why they were worried. He understood why Michael offered him some of his fries, even though Michael never shared food with anyone. He understood why Ashton was so gentle with him, as if he was scared he was going to break if he hugged him too tightly, and why sometimes Luke couldn't even look him in the eye.

Sometimes, he hated what he was doing to himself, but he couldn't stop because he just _wasn't good enough yet_. When he looked in the mirror, he could still see how chubby his cheeks were and how big his stomach was, could feel the fat between his fingers when he pinched his thigh. He felt disgusting, and he needed to change and then maybe he'd be able to bear the sight of himself without wanting to gag)

So, he kept going, cutting down his meals and exercising constantly, and tried to ignore the glances and worried whispers from his friends.

There came a point. A point where he only ate food when it was offered to him, and even then only food that he had made sure wasn't fatty or high in calories, through checking the labels as subtly as he could, and excessive, obsessive internet research before he ate anything.

A point where he refused to look in mirrors because he hated seeing what he looked like, eyes sunken and skin much paler than it had ever been.

A point where he was cold constantly, wearing oversized hoodies even onstage where he used to leave feeling as if he was on fire. Now, he felt nothing.

The fans started to notice something was off, too, and they were much less subtle about it than the tour crew or his bandmates. They tweeted, pointing out how big the bags under his eyes were and how _skinny_ he was getting and how, frankly, he never looked happy anymore. He spent just as much time interacting with, and meeting, fans as always, because they deserved it and he loved them- the band would be nowhere without their support, and he would forever be grateful for that. But in photos, he constantly looked worn out, his smile never reaching his eyes, and they all noticed. They messaged him telling him how much they loved him and how worried they were. People made threads about their theories for why he was ~~such a mess~~ ~~falling apart~~ looking so sickly. Some defended him, saying it was probably just because he was working so hard and tour was tiring so _just give the guy a break_ , and some attacked him, accusing him of doing drugs and setting a bad example for his young fans.

There came a point where his bandmates decided they had to intervene ~~because this had been going on for far too long and they were _scared._~~

The day started with Ash walking in on Calum warming up to go on a run.

It was 6AM, and Calum didn't know what city they were in and he should really check Google Maps and sort out a route before he left, if only so he could let security know where he was meant to be, but he had slept in and needed to get going or his whole schedule for the day would be off. He was just putting his earphones in when Ashton wandered into the kitchen area, stopping short when he saw Calum. This was the moment where, usually, Ash would walk over and kiss Calum softly, try to tempt him to stay long enough for them to have coffee together. Calum would choke out a laugh ~~because the thought of drinking anything but water made him feel _sick_~~ the kiss him back and apologise but be on his way and promise to cuddle after.

Instead, Ashton's eyes raked over his body, taking in the running shoes and the sweats and the startled look on Calum's face, before shaking his head.

"No." was all he said at first, making Calum frown, confused. After a few seconds, he spoke again.

"No, you're not going on a run. Have you even eaten yet today? Because I know you didn't eat dinner last night, and to be honest I don't think you had lunch either. I can't let you do this anymore."

And Calum was still so confused, but now he was also angry ~~and fucking terrified.~~ Ash didn't have the right to tell him what to do like this-he just wanted to go for a run, for God's sake, there was nothing wrong with that. And, ok, maybe he _hadn't_ eaten since breakfast the day before-he'd had an apple, a cup of black coffee, and a bowl of porridge because Luke had made it and stared at him intensely with those blue puppy dog eyes of his until Calum took it and ate it all. (he puked it up after because his body wasn't used to so much food at once but nobody needed to know that, he'd cleaned it up and was sure no one had seen or heard him)- but so what? It was his life, and he was just trying to be healthy and everyone was making it _so fucking hard for him._

He didn't say any of this, though. All he did say, in a tight voice, was;

"Do what, exactly?"

That one, short, sentence seemed to be precisely what it took to break Ashton because when Calum said it, his eyes went hard and he grabbed Calum by the wrist and pushed him down so he was sitting at the table.

"Luke, Michael, wake up and get you asses out here now!"

And, oh _fuck_. Ashton was angry, _at him,_ for real. They'd never really fought before- sure, there were little arguments about forgetting to wash up or stupid things like that-all things that resulted in a bit of shouting and then apologies from both parties within the hour. But this? Calum had never seen him this mad and, frankly, it scared the hell out of him. He had fucked up, badly.

But honestly, Calum wasn't entirely sure what he'd done to warrant this extreme of a reaction. He knew that, okay, maybe he wasn't eating enough, but this seemed a bit of an overreaction if it was just about him having skipped a meal or two ~~or three or fourfivesixseventoomanytocount.~~

(And maybe there had also been a few times where he'd fallen over and found it far too hard to get back up, or had been walking and all of a sudden felt that he was going to be sick or faint or both and maybe he had fainted a couple of times and thought he was going to die then and there, but he'd always gotten himself up and none of them knew about it so that couldn't be it either.)

So he sat, arms crossed protectively over his body, and waited for Michael and Luke to stumble through, sure he had the upper hand ~~but oh how he was wrong.~~

Ashton waited until they had all sat down and woken up properly before beginning to speak.

"I know it's early to be up on our day off, but I woke up this morning to find one Calum Hood preparing to go off on a run, even thought I know for a fact that he hasn't eaten anything since this time yesterday at least, and since then he's been on an hour long run, and then disappeared for another 45 minutes around 5 yesterday without even telling security where he was- which by the way, is probably what he was planning on doing this morning if I hadn't walked in on him- and in those 45 minutes I'm sure he did another if his fucking workouts, and I am just. So _sick_ of it, because this isn't fucking normal, or right, or healthy, so we are here, talking about this right. Fucking. Now. No more whispering, no more tiptoeing around it." He turned to Calum then and spoke directly to him, his glare strong enough to make Calum shrink back in his seat as his eyes seemed to bore right into his soul, "This is an issue, and we're not leaving this table until _you_ accept that. You're killing yourself, love, and I can't bear to watch it go on any longer."

Ash's voice was strong until he uttered that last sentence, where it cracked as though he were close to tears, and in that moment Calum hated himself more than he ever had before. This was his fault, he was the one who had made Ashton- his lovely, kind, caring, _Ashton_ \- so upset that he was nearly in tears.

He looked away and chose to inspect the other two carefully, trying to gauge their reactions to Ashton's speech.

Luke wouldn't face him at all-he was looking down at his feet, fists clenched in his lap. His curls were falling into his face, which Calum knew he hated, but he was making no effort to push them back. His eyes were shining as if he, too, was fighting back tears.

Michael, on the other hand, was staring straight at him, holding his gaze fast. It had been a long time since either of them had felt the need to use this tactic. They'd known each other for their whole lives, knew each others tells so well by now that they knew exactly when the other had something to tell them- when they were lying, or hiding something important. They started doing this to make it known that they knew something was up, but was waiting for the other to be ready. To help remind themselves that they would be there for each other, no matter what. It had been what Calum did that pushed Michael into finally telling him about his anxiety, and the reason Calum had first admitted to Mikey that he wasn't entirely straight.

Calum was _furious_. He wasn't hiding anything from them, and definitely nothing that warranted that look from Michael. They had no right to spring this on him, looking at him with false eyes and carefully sculpted faces, as if he were a wild animal that they were scared was about to run away.

However. Angry as he was, he couldn't find the words to shout at them for it. He loved them all to pieces and knew that they had the best of intentions- they wouldn't be doing this at all if they weren't genuinely worried for him. He was so, so _mad_ at them- but there still a horrible lump in his throat when he opened his mouth to argue, or deny, or _something_.

"I'm fine, guys, stop fucking worrying about me," he eventually said, which would have been fine if it weren't for the fact that his voice caught on the word "worrying" which most definitely did not look good for his case.

He saw Ashton's eyes flash once again but before he could make this go on any longer, Calum decided to get up, storm off to show them how irrational they were being. That he _was_ fine and they were being overdramatic, their worrying uncalled for and unwanted and all they were doing was stressing him out. He would avoid them for a while, and they would come to their senses and realise that they were making a fuss about nothing, that Calum was right, and then they'd apologise to him and it would all be behind them. Life would go on.

That was not what happened next.

As he stood up, the room began to spin and he thought it would be ok, he had just gotten up too fast, so he took another step and suddenly the ground was a lot closer than it had been two seconds ago and was the floor really that hard because, wow, that was sore, and, huh, maybe he could just lay here and close his eyes for a bit because everything _hurt._

He heard what sounded like Luke gasping and rush to him, heard Mikey swear quietly and then take charge, telling someone to phone an ambulance and going off to get help, and then he heard Ash much closer than before, whispering his name over and over, telling him that they were getting a paramedic, that they could get him some proper help, and _everything is going to be OK, Cal, I promise._

At that, he relaxed, because if Ashton thought things would be OK, then they would be, right? And so he began to fall asleep to the faint sound of sirens and to Ashton's continued murmuring in his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel I should up the rating, or put another trigger warning/tag something else, don't hesitate to tell me! I've only ever posted fluffy stuff before so this is kinda new territory for me
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading xo (also, happy new year)


	2. a new beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second and final chapter. Same warning as before, so please proceed with caution.
> 
> This whole chapter takes place in a hospital. I’m not sure if that’s a trigger, but I thought I’d mention it here just in case.

He woke up to a white room, a familiar hand holding his, and a pounding headache.

He blinked a couple times, trying to focus his eyes. A loud beeping was coming from his right, but he ignored that in favour of turning to the owner of the hand, who was on his left.

Of course, it was Ashton. He looked more exhausted than he’d ever seen him, his face pale and bags like bruises under his eyes. He was sunk down in an uncomfortable looking chair by Calum’s bedside, eyes closed and posture slack, but hand holding Calum’s tight, as if scared he might slip away if he loosened his grip.

To the right of Ashton, sat Michael. He was leaned forward in his chair, chin resting on his fisted hands, bouncing his knee and staring off into space as if deep in thought. Finally, at the end of his bed- because that’s what he was in, a bed, with white sheets and white bars which was almost definitely a hospital bed, but his head hurt too much right now to think about that- was Luke. He also looked deep in thought, eyes glassy and unmoving until Calum coughed.

He had tried to speak, but obviously that was too much. Still, both Luke and Mikey’s heads shot up. Ashton blinked his eyes open, squinting for a moment before opening wide and launching to his feet. There was silence for a moment- aside from that incessant beeping- before all three started talking at once.

“How you feeling?” “Should I get a nurse?” “What the fuck, man?”

Calum squeezed his eyes shut and groaned at the sudden noise, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. They all went quiet, and when he opened his eyes again Ashton had sat down again, curling in on himself a bit. Calum gripped his hand a little tighter, and gave him a weak smile. Ashton returned it, if a little watery, but Calum figured that that was the best he would get for now.

Michael cleared his throat.

He waited for Calum to turn to him before starting to speak.

“So. What. The _fuck_ Cal?”

Ashton turned to glare at him, and Luke exclaimed “Michael!” in protest. Obviously they had been planning on going easy on him at this point. But, this was what he needed. No coddling- there had been enough of that. Blunt, and straight to the point- much like Ashton’s earlier speech, where he’d been right about so many things, including the fact that there had been far too much tiptoeing and whispering and _secrets_. So many fucking lies, too, whether intentional or not. Even when he still thought he was doing the right thing, everything was so fragile and secret.

Now, looking straight at Michael, he wanted to go back and change it all, prevent himself from causing all this pain and misery- come clean before there was even anything physical to come clean about. Ask for help, minimise the grief he would cause. But it was too late for that now, and all he could do was try his best to put back together all the pieces that he’d already broken.

Calum, in all fairness, didn’t realise he’d started crying until Ashton reached up and began to rub circles on his back, but once he’d started he couldn’t seem to stop. He tore his eyes away from Michael’s, trying furiously to wipe away the tears but they _just_ _kept_ _coming_. Luke reached across from the end of the bed and grabbed his hand, holding on tight. Mikey, for his part, leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his face, looking exhausted and broken and a little bit relieved ~~~~all at once ~~because, yes, this~~ ~~was horrible, but he knew it was also the first step to something better.~~

Eventually, Calum managed to stop himself from sobbing and began to shake his head. Confused, all three heads turned to face him. Taking a shaky breath, he began to say what he’d been thinking of ever since he’d first woken up,

“I know. I know I messed up, ok? But I don’t- I don’t know what to _do_ about it, I don’t know where to start, I don’t know what’s _normal_ because I can’t tell the difference between healthy and unhealthy anymore, it’s all blurred together. I- I thought what I was doing was right for so long that I don’t know if I can go back, even if I tried. I don’t even know what that would _mean_.”

With that, he buried his head in his hands, trying to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t think straight, his head felt like cotton wool but he knew he’d said what he needed to. The silence that followed was painful, but not entirely unexpected.

They sat like that for a while, the grave line of thought hanging in the air until, finally, Ashton cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t say anything, try to help...”

Calum cut him off, “I didn’t want you to help. I didn’t _need_ it. Or at least, I thought I didn’t...”

“But you _did_ , and we should have noticed sooner. _I_ should have noticed sooner, I’m your boyfriend for fuck’s sake, I’m meant to be there for you!”

And though this was said in anger, there was also that _pain_ again. His words were laced with it, his eyes full of that unbearable misery and Calum knew he would never forgive himself for putting him through that.

For now, he knew there was nothing he could do to take away Ashton’s guilt. Instead, he took his hand once again. He made eye contact with each of them in turn, choosing his next words carefully.

“I think.” he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I think, that I want to get help. You guys can finish the tour, I don’t want to hold you back. Find another bassist, but. I don’t think I can keep going like this. I don’t- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I want to at least try and fix it, and I don’t know how long that’s going to take, or if it can- if it can be done at all. But I want to at least try.”

He looked down at the sheets, fighting back tears. He wouldn’t break down again- enough tears had been shed. It was time to face the music, so to speak.

“Cal. Cal, look at me.”

This time, it was Luke who spoke. Calum looked up carefully, not sure what to expect.

“There’s no _way_ we’re leaving your side.”

“But-“ he began to protest, but Luke stopped him.

“Besides, we could never get another bassist,” he smiled, “anyone we get would be far too talented for us. They’d make us all look bad.”

Calum snorted, and Michael began to smile, slowly. “We’d sound awful next to someone good.”

“Absolutely terrible!”

“Catastrophic, even!”

“Nightmare worthy!”

Mikey and Luke kept throwing similar words back and forth, and Calum could feel a smile growing like it hadn’t in a long time. He turned to Ashton, who smirked back at him, and. Ok. Maybe everything was going to alright, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! See what I mean about bittersweet?  
> Not everything is magically fixed, and there’s a long journey ahead, but an important confession and commitment is made.  
>  I hope it was satisfactory, and I did this story justice xo
> 
> (Again, if you think I missed any triggers, or should up the rating, add tags, etc. please tell me and I’d be happy to make any changes! People’s safety matters more to me than getting Hits or Kudos on this story❤️✨)


End file.
